Sanguine Renaissance
by Someone Who Isn't Me
Summary: Three short snapshots into the rebirth of Yharnam following the night of the hunt and the Childhood's Beginning ending. A direct sequel to "To Silence Its Harrowing Cry." Written from Djura's perspective.
1. The Following Morning

Djura surveyed the world from atop his tower. He really only had a good view of Old Yharnam, but it may as well have been the world to him. The rest of the city was going to hell anyway, or perhaps it had already after the red moon descended. For all he knew, he was the only sane man left in Yharnam.

He sighed and peered up at the sky, observing the progress of its gradual lightening. The moon had gradually turned pale and withdrawn over the last several hours, and the purple of the sky had faded to a paler color that suggested the approach of dawn.

He should be more relieved that this long night appeared to be ending, but his heart was heavy. Out of all the hunters, all the innocent folk thrown into this mess, why had he been the one to survive? That girl, Demetria, has been so young, with her whole life ahead of her... And, though he had mixed feelings about the eldritch creature she had adopted, he felt sorry that it had never had a chance to truly live.

Djura considered going down to check the lantern again, but he figured it was no use. As soon as Demetria had disappeared into he Dream, the lamp had warped and twisted until it was nearly unrecognizable. Djura had experience with these things, and even if she somehow survived a battle with a Great One -which was unlikely, at best - he didn't see how she could ever return. Perhaps she would someday at a different place in Yharnam, but Djura was not omniscient. He would never be able to check them all.

When he saw the first glint of the sun over the horizon, Djura rose to his feet with a grunt of pain as his old injuries reminded him of their presence. He could take more blood, of course, but despite his understanding of the beasts he had no desire to become one himself.

Speaking of the beasts, they had to be fed, lest they turn on themselves and descend into cannibalism. Djura had never made his daily circuit of Old Yharnam without Zach or another companion at his side, and as he began with his chores he felt the loss acutely.

As he knelt down to examine a smaller beast - once a child, perhaps? - who had been beaten by the others, Djura suddenly became aware of a presence behind him.

He whirled around, ready to face a fight - was it that invader, again? - but there was no one there. Djura chuckled darkly to himself. Perhaps he was going mad after all.

But... the tiny beast before him looked terrified, staring up at something over Djura's shoulder with enormous wide eyes.

"Hello?" Djura said tentatively, feeling ridiculous at speaking to thin air. "Is someone there?"

 _ **"Djura."**_

He flinched as the word came out of nowhere, but so close it could have been whispered into his ear. It was not a voice, per se, but much more suggestive than a mere gust of wind.

"Show yourself," Djura commanded, trying to keep his own voice from wavering.

The air in front of him shimmered for a moment, then tore itself apart to reveal an endless black void. The hole in reality just hung there for a moment, glittering from the glow of distant stars, and then _something_ began to reach through it...

Djura whirled away before he could get a good look at it, throwing up a hand to cover his one remaining eye. By the time he opened his eye, the bizarre apparition was gone and the hole in the world had healed over. In its place stood a young woman dressed in Cainhurst knight's robes and a blindfold cap.

"Demetria?" He asked incredulously.

The girl nodded stiffly, like a puppet. Though her mouth didn't move, she spoke with a rough approximation of the female hunter's voice. _**"I'm back,"**_ she said, the sound echoing oddly in Djura's ears. It seemed to come from a different place each time she spoke, never originating from the figure itself. _**"Aren't you glad to see me?"**_

"What happened to you?" Djura asked, stalling for time as he tried to figure out whether this was all just an elaborate trick.

 _ **"That's a long story,"**_ said Demetria's voice, and Djura thought he could hear several other voices overlaid above it, all laughing madly.

"So you're back," Djura tried again. "And you came to me. What'd you need an old man like me for?" Djura tried to keep up a brave front as the uncanny figure took a step forward and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.

 _ **"I brought back Mergo,"**_ the voice whispered, close as a lover. _**"Now I plan to save the rest of Yharnam. And you're going to help me."**_

* * *

Author's Note: So apparently I am still writing bloodborne fanfic... I thought I was done, but while finishing up a harry potter fanfic I wrote several chapters of this story, a random oneshot, and a scene that's possibly a beginning of yet another story. Now I've gotta actually follow through with it lol. I'm afraid my headcanon is getting too convoluted to the point where readers don't want to go all the way back to previous works in the series, so please let me know by favoriting or leaving a review if you liked it or want more of this series.


	2. One Week Later

The girl sat cross-legged in front of the unconscious beast, meditating silently upon its inner workings. Her jet black hair - had it really been this dark, before? - emerged from underneath the blindfold cap and fell in waves over her shoulders. Though there was no wind, it seemed to shift and settle occasionally, as if moving of its own free will. Aside from this, her body was still. Djura had been keeping watch all day, and she had not moved for hours. The small man-beast in front of her also lay unnaturally still with its eyes and mouth wide open, and Djura was beginning to wonder if it was dead or somehow frozen in time.

Djura approached the girl hesitantly, feeling like he should say something. "Demetria?" he asked quietly. "Is there anything else I could get for you?"

Her head snapped around with such speed it nearly gave him whiplash, and he felt a little sick as he realized that the rest of her body was still facing forward as her neck bent at an impossible angle. She blinked at him owlishly, and he could see that the entire irises of her eyes were black as well. "Gods," he swore under his breath, then realized the irony of what he'd said. He cracked a wry smile, and added; "You seem so normal that I forget myself sometimes."

"Yes," she said. There was a long expectant pause, as if Djura was supposed to already know what she wanted. Well, if that was the case, he was certainly failing at it. "I want you to go somewhere," she finally clarified. "Somewhere where you can't see me. It's hard to concentrate when I have to keep myself fit for your eyes."

Djura turned to walk away from her, but he stopped before taking the first step. "Or you can just show yourself to me. If we're going to be working together, there's no need for you to exhaust yourself on my account."

Demetria paused, as if considering it. "Are you sure you want this?" her voice said softly. "I can keep the frenzy from hurting you, but once you've seen me there won't be any going back."

Djura nodded, wondering what he was getting into. Other hunters in the Workshop had teased him for being so curious as a young man, and he had died many times while trying to satisfy that desire to know what lay around the next corner. Since being cut off from the Dream, he'd grown more cautious, and the burning of Old Yharnam had broken his spirit entirely. But now he felt a spark of that old curiosity flaring up again. Surely Demetria's new form couldn't be so bad, now could it?

"All right, as you wish," she sighed, and stood up stiffly with her back still to him. Every time she moved he was struck by how unnatural it looked, as if her joints were no longer bending in the right places. She turned to face him, and Djura felt a wave of nausea come over him as he saw that she was already transforming. Her facial features distorted and melted like wax, running together as her skin darkened and her frame elongated from the height of a petite woman to that of a giant. Djura closed his eyes for a moment, telling himself that he was just giving her a bit of privacy until she was done. He heard a few odd squelching and cracking sounds, and then everything was quiet.

"You can look now." Her voice still sounded normal, or at least what the new normal was. It still echoed oddly, as if it was composed of multiple whispers overlaid upon each other. Despite his desire to see what she looked like, Djura found himself oddly reluctant to open his eyes. He forced himself to by sheer willpower, and after a moment of incomprehension - what in the hell was he looking at? - all the pieces slowly fell into place.

The young Great One was roughly humanoid in shape, standing about nine feet tall as she towered over Djura's small frame. But she could still be viewed on a human scale; she'd not yet reached the immense size that characterized most of her brethren. Djura's first impression was that of her enormous dark wings, as black as the rest of her body. One pair was attached at the shoulders and another lower on her torso. They were thin and gauzy with trailing tendrils, more like bat wings than birds' feathers. They shimmered in and out of view, half in this world and half in another. There was a third pair up near her neck, and occasionally they fluttered forward to conceal her face as if in a fit of shyness.

Djura could see why she'd be self-conscious - most of her head was covered in a thick carpet of writhing tentacles, much like Mergo's had been but larger and more active. He wondered if there were eyes hidden in between the tentacles, or if they were somehow eyes themselves. Beneath these was a mouth, the jagged zipper-like edges of which stretched all the way up the sides of her face. Djura didn't want to see what that would look like when she decided to open it to take a bite.

Lower down, she appeared to have two primary sets of arms, one of which ended in humanlike hands that had a few too many fingers. The second set was composed of two rope-like tentacles, which were sprouting and reabsorbing various smaller protrusions even as Djura watched. Her legs were mostly hidden by the lower set of wings, but he could see that they were bent unnaturally due to the presence of several extra joints.

"Are you all right?" Demetria asked, and Djura wondered if his mouth was gaping open. Her new form was bizarre and unnatural, but Djura found that he could avoid being overwhelmed by its strangeness if he focused on one feature at a time. He didn't feel the nausea or visceral dread he had expected, and that in and of itself was a victory.

Realizing that she was still waiting for a response, Djura finally found his voice. "Well, you're not as ugly as I thought you'd be." He cringed internally at his phrasing – he'd never thought he'd be saying such things to a woman, let alone one who could end him with a single thought in his direction. "Honestly, I was expecting something worse based on all your posturing. So if this is what you look like, I think we're both going to be just fine."

Demetria's upper set of wings pulled back sharply. Djura braced himself – _this is it, she's lost her ability to sense humor_ – but nothing happened besides a gentle undulation of the tentacles that covered her head. Though her face wasn't very expressive in its current form, Djura actually thought she might be smiling.


End file.
